


Heated Conversations

by Sanzaru



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Bottom Megatron, Canon Related, F/M, Fragging, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Other, Porn with Feelings, Sticky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:05:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanzaru/pseuds/Sanzaru
Summary: Never experiencing his own heat before leaves Megatron completely clueless as to what's happening to his frame and everyone around him seems to have melted their processors and is completely useless! A last ditch effort for sanity has him reaching out to Optimus but will even he be able to help the wanton warlord? Set just after the Unicron events so his frame is newly flushed of the dark energon and his heat emerges after eons of war and it's going to try and make up for a LOT of lost time. Mostly Porn but plot keeps rising out of the depths to expand. Lots of feelings later. Mostly related to the TFP series but never know when the rest of the continuities to get a turn.





	1. At Long Last

**CHAPTER 1**

  
  


The sharp bite of the cold temperatures in the upper atmosphere bit into his plating as he streaked with all the speed he could muster, hoping it would detour the mass of mechs following him. Gritting his dentae as his engines gave another groan at the speed he was pushing them to reach. Despite knowing he was not the fastest among his warriors and would soon falter if they did not give up he continued on. He'd stopped threatening them as his demands had fallen on deaf audials entirely. He couldn't deactivate any more without giving the autobots an edge in their ongoing war but he couldn't understand what was happening. He'd never seen such madness and he'd been infected with the unmaker himself!

"What slag has infected your processors!"

His roar was lost to the groaning of his engines as they struggled with the rapidly changing temperatures between the Mesosphere and the Thermosphere, the ice that had accumulated along his plating melting off as his metal warmed and brightened with the growing heat. He couldn't sense anyone immediately behind him and flipped around to see if he'd outlasted them into this space. His armor was thicker and better able to withstand the various abrupt temperatures he hoped. He would have commed Soundwave... except whatever virus seemed to have infected him as well and he wouldn't be surprised to see the Nemesis following him shortly if they didn't fix this soon. The only ones not currently daring to give chase we're of the wheeled variety and he thought even a couple of them had attempted to do so… Idiots.

He climbed higher after seeing nobody in his direct line of sight, just to give himself a breather and spotted one of the fleshlings large monitoring satellites. His armor was hissing and popping, steam escaping to be absorbed into the dry void around him. Cringing at the idea of hiding, even temporarily, he still flipped into root mode and went to rest on the large device to give his frame time to rest as well as chance to try and figure out what was happening.

This misery had started like any other morning on this miserable blue dirtball; rising up from his berth and stretching his pistons to be ready to fight should the opportunity arise. He'd deactivate the day he stopped being constantly prepared and after years of combat, he’d grown used to the morning practice. His frame had been feeling better for the removal of the dark energon but strange this morning. He merely decided it was the lasting remnants of the blood of Unicron filtering out of his form, giving him a few extra frame issues. Nothing to see their resident self-obsessed medic over after all. He'd taken care of himself plenty of times back during his mining days and even after his gladiatorial matches. He wasn't keen on seeing a medic unless there was the worry of deactivation through lack of medical care. He'd noticed he was running a few degrees higher in temperature but nothing too unusual, barely enough to register as a difference. 

 

He'd been eager to roam around his ship slightly more than usual, even patting a couple of vehicons for a job well done at fixing the door that had been torn off when some autobot had been on board last. They had stared at him longer than normal without saying or reacting but nothing too unusual. He'd figured he'd frightened them, it wouldn't be the first time he'd frightened his troops. He'd always been intimidating after all and he was both proud and bothered by it simultaneously. Moving off from them, not noticing how their helms swiveled to keep him in their view for as long as possible before looking at each other. He'd moved slowly through his ship, greeting the mechs as he came upon them in a way he hadn't done since much earlier in the war. Attributing his friendliness to the removal of the dark energon once more, even smiling as he neared the bridge. 

  
The sounds of Starscream sneering at the other officers on board the navigational bridge as he neared reached his audials caused him to think for a brief moment to turn around. Soundwave would inevitably begin to ping him for the meeting and Starscream would try to throw his position around too much without his presence. The doors slid open and he glared around, Starscream giving that fake bow as he continued talking at some poor vehicon. Knock Out seemed prepared with the medical files he'd asked for at least and Soundwave was, as always, prepared. He took his seat to begin reading over the various reports scattered near him.

 

"Lord Megatron, we will be needing some more medical supplies soon. I can only reuse the same items so many times before they become a hindrance to the mech I'm installing them on . " Knock Out sidled close, smiling coyly the way he always did when asking for anything he wanted. It was so unusual that today, it actually caused his optics to brighten as he noticed the shine of the other's mech's plating. The flashiness of the red racer usually irritated him but today his luster was intriguing.

 

"Make a list for Soundwave to procure for you. Let me know when you're pleased with the supply of the items Knock Out." Surprise swept across Knock Out's faceplates, his plating flaring in pleasure as he hadn't thought the other would be so quick to give in or at all for that matter. Leaning close he opened his mouth to thank him before his bottom lip plate clinked shut and with a deep invent before he took a step back as if re-thinking what he was about to do. This was the first moment Megatron thought something may be truly wrong as Knock Out was not known to ever silence himself like that in his recollections.

Glaring at the red speedster, figuring he and Starscream had some elaborate scheme to oust him from his position. His optics went towards his Second in Command to threaten him only to be startled that both Starscream and Soundwave had come quite close, both shifting from glaring at each other, as much as Soundwave could appear to glare anyways. Moving closer to him in a very deliberate way, almost like they were cyber - cats stalking a petro - rabbit. Turning back to Knock Out he saw the mech falter backward and speed out of the room entirely, actually scratching his plating on the door on the way out without even a hint of complaint.

 

The shock of the whole moment meant he was startled once again as his SIC and TIC reached him simultaneously, one on each side of his throne. Starscream’s optics gleamed, a servo of long fingers reaching out towards his elbow joints. Growling out at the presumptive nature of them both even as he cringed slightly for the touch of one of Soundwave's cables curling around his wrist. Lifting it up to stare at it dangling around his appendage before he felt their EM fields slowly enveloping him. It spiked his temperature a few degrees higher as two sets of long invents could be heard from the pair of them.

"What the fragging slag is this?!? Soundwave? Do you join with this conniving traitor??" Growling it out he turned to the other two in the room, who'd gotten closer to him still. They were reaching towards him, optics and mask equally bright and neither were speaking. That was nothing unusual for Soundwave but Starscream being silent was beginning to make him nervous. He detested the feeling immensely.  He rose up and brushed past them, sliding the data cable wound around his wrist with a bit more difficulty than he would care to admit out loud. Neither mech stopped him but they did slide their servos along his hips on his way past, going for the gaps in his plating along the curved plating. He hissed out as a claw caught at his protoform slightly, making his own fans start up. Grabbing Starscream by the throat cables, Megatron tosses him towards Soundwave in an effort to get both mechs away from himself. Soundwave easily sidestepped as the seeker twisted and slid as he caught himself quickly on his knees and a single servo clawing into the flooring, though the edge of his wing still caught and crumpled. Not enough to cause as much damage as Megatron had been hoping for and the seeker STILL didn’t even yell out or grovel.

 

"Why are neither of you speaking?? What is wrong with the two of you?? Have your processor's burnt out?!?" Hissing out as he stalked towards the door, intent on getting to Knock Out as swiftly as possible. He needed to get away from whatever processor scrambling madness was going on and get the medic to deal with it properly. Instead he felt cables wind around his middle, halting his movement and he turned to see Starscream already back up and coming towards him as Soundwave tightened his hold on him.

 

“I expected this sort of betrayal from Starscream! But you Soundwave??"

 

The other gave almost no notice of even hearing him speak to him beyond his visor brightening slightly. Their EM fields once more surrounded him, clawing and grasping onto him yet neither felt threatening, which simply made it even odder given their actions. Still, he was in no mood for this... whatever this was. Another cable deployed and wrapped around one of his thighs, tightening but undulating before rubbing his crotch panel. His entire processor seemed to fog slightly and he stepped back, dragging the blue mech with him. He hated the reaction his processor was having to their strange EM fields. His ability to think was one of his greatest assets and he'd missed being the only one inside his own mind. Perhaps Unicron wasn't truly gone but acting through them? They didn't seem like they were possessed exactly but something was most definitely wrong. Starscream got up, wings fluttered high and proud. That was worrying enough as it was without Soundwave helping him.

 

"Master...." Starscream's voice was lower than he'd ever heard it, sliding across his audial sensors like the highest grade energon would flow across a glossa, the reverberation making his own processor fog in that same way once more. That fog frightened him, like he'd been doused into the cold expanse of space. He growled again and took another step back.

 

"Stop this! Before I deactivate both of you!"

 

Both mechs stopped for a moment, optics and visor turning to his large weapon glowing as it booted up menacingly. Starscream's glossa swiped at his lip plates almost eagerly staring at it before shifting back to stare back at him and Megatron could only describe him as looking ravenous. The data cables tightened on his thigh, once more brushing across his intimate plating. He'd had enough and with the sharp sound of scraping metal his blade emerged and he sliced at his TIC's cables before turning around away from what were obviously possessed or diseased mechs. He needed to see for himself what was going on with them.

 

"Report to the Medical bay immediately and get whatever is causing your processor malfunctions out of your system immediately!"

 

They were both still staring at him, creeping forward in that exceedingly unnerving way. Starscream hissed as his bent wing brushed Soundwave's side and they finally stared at each other, their EM fields spiking drastically as they both hissed out. Hearing Soundwave's actual vocalizer after so long made Megatron step back slightly in surprise, even if it was only such a base sound, or perhaps because it was such an oddity to hear such a rather un-intelligent vocalization from the stoic blue mech. The sound of his movement once more got their attention and he did something he'd later have trouble calling anything but fleeing. Slamming the button to the door to lock it for even a moment as he took off towards the medbay for answers. The scrambling at the door from sharp claws made him glad they weren't quite in their correct faculties and able to immediately follow him by opening the door.

 

Knock Out was standing worriedly outside of the medbay, watching for a certain warlord. He knew he was coming, he could smell and sense that powerful electromagnetic field. He'd already commed Breakdown to get to the medbay so he could keep him from getting infected only to find out he was still on the dirtball without a way to get back up to the Nemesis thanks to Soundwave already being affected. 'Thank goodness for Medic overrides... Mine may be sub-par since I wasn't sparked as medic but it's better than nothing, especially if I had to face Megatron...' Grinning slightly for the double entendre even as he slipped into the medical bay, knowing the slagmaker would come sooner or later. Truth be told, he was surprised this was the first time anyone had gone into a heat in ages. Their frames generally responded to stress by dampening them so the war had kept them at bay for eons... Only now to have the most powerful mech around go into a full heat. Tucking himself into a hidden alcove used if he had to monitor volatile mechs he proceeded to wait out the whole mess this would cause. He'd have to be rested up once multiple mecha that would most likely need repairs after this.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Megatron’s movement through the ship continued to be strange, practically running as more and more mech seemed to be taken over by the strange affliction affecting his top-most officers. He’d made it to the medbay only to find Knock Out had locked it up tight and placed a fragging Quarantined sign on the entrance. He’d been tempted to start ripping the door open so he could demand answers when several Eradicons had come around the corner of the hall and stopped in that same odd manner before coming towards him.  While he attempted to command them, threaten them, nothing had registered with them in any manner and he swiftly categorized this as a losing battle. He’d swiftly swept past them, shoving them out of his way despite them grasping at his frame. The groping along his transformation seams in such a brazen manner that had his processor fogging again before he shook his helm and moved swiftly to the hanger doors and leapt out. Surprised when a large portion of his armada gave chase into the air behind him despite his sudden departure. He attempted several maneuvers to get them off of himself but they continued in their strange pursuit of himself. Aiming higher into the air, towards the upper atmosphere and he pushed his thrusters as hard as he could.

 

Megatron's frame continued to warm and he hissed out as the colder temperatures caused his armor to pop and pinch, pushing off more alarms on his HUD to expand his armor. There was no way he was going to allow himself to be so open for an easy hit against his protoform beneath with the dogged pursuit of his crazed minions. He was the Beast of KAON! A little heat could be managed, even if it was getting hotter and hotter beneath his armor... Clamping it tighter against himself, deciding he had a different strand of whatever was affecting the rest of his crew. Would the heat cause his processor to glitch like everyone else's soon? Perhaps he should return to the ship, perhaps this time he could make it into the medbay properly. That reminded him to make a note to punish Knock Out for locking the medbay doors, even putting a block on his own over-ride. Probably in an effort to keep his paint from getting scratched rather than doing his job. Useless aft licker... At least the Insecticons were out on a patrol and not part of this madness.

Another couple degrees went his temperature and finally, unable to help himself he expanded the confines of his armor, letting some of the heat escape. He couldn't stay hidden on the space station for too long. Soon enough the humans would notice and then they would probably alert Prime and his team... Sighing for the heat, noticing it continued to climb damnably high. It was making things uncomfortable and showed no signs of getting any better. Looking down at the planet he shifted off of the space station and went into a free fall, the air cooling his frame almost to the point he could relax for a moment and enjoy the exhilaration of flight in his root mode, even though he didn't have thrusters to properly propel himself while not in alt. He'd have to transform in enough time for his engines to be able to break his descent. At least he’d gotten some time to think.    
  


There was no shame in stepping back to evaluate a situation before taking action. He was even known for such measures in his gladiatorial days, able to think quickly when he’d been caught by surprise and stepping back to reflect on his opponent. He was not keen on rash decisions generally, despite how many others thought that of him. He was a thinker first and foremost, despite what so many others thought of him. He could out - think most opponents easily and relished in their shock when he shattered their perceptions into tiny shards, stabbing their processors and spark in a way just as deadly as any of his favored weapons.

Attempting to enjoy the moment of calm before he heard a sharp whistle and his optics sprang open just as something quite literally hit the broad side of his upper back, forcing a grunt out of him. Several cords wrapped tightly around his frame, poking between his flared plating. He didn't like the way his processor fogged at the intimate touch, various parts of his frame heating up again. Usually he would find his attention sharpened for such a blatant attack but something was going wrong with him. The moment of panic of caused by his frame at the touch along with their strange demeanor was finally pushing his processor to the edge. Activating his comm for Orion-Optimus and sending an only slightly panicked-sounding help signal, figuring the way it was worded was more likely to get him immediate assistance. While he wasn’t exactly calling for help he definitely needed something to distract the crazed mechs swarming him. He left it flashing, unable to do more than that as he couldn’t give any sort of direct communication any attention right now with all the distractions around him.

Panting from the exertion and heat flowing throughout his frame he crashed to the planet, a cloud of black following him behind. Getting to his pedes slowly, letting his armor flare outwards in an effort to get his temperature down to prevent a system crash that seemed intensely imminent. The cloud of mechs landed near him, slowly creating a ring and blocking him in as his vision wavered from the heat pouring off of his frame. His Second and Third were the first to touch down near him, stalking him despite the injuries he'd left on their frames while in the air, deep gouges littered their frames and yet it hardly seemed to cause them any ailment that he could catch in their movements. Gritting his dentae together, grinding them and causing sparks that nearly ignited spots where he was leaking energon. He could only hope his message had made it through before his comm had been knocked offline... At least the signal could still be traced, though he didn’t know how helpful it would be.

 


	2. ♫In the heat of the moment♫

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which more things go wrong for Megatron and he still hasn't figured out why or how everyone got "sick" and he hopes a distress signal will get answered.

Crash and Burn

 

          Optimus was sitting at the computer, decoding more of the Iacon database before a rather unexpected alert came up on his HUD. Optics spiraled as he stared at it, trying to focus on the absurdity of the reality he found himself in. Megatron was contacting him? It was their oldest form of contact, a direct line they had made from before the war. It was labeled as 'Megatronus' even after all this time and his spark spun painfully. He'd at least removed the heart symbol next to the name many centuries ago.

          Turning off the computer in front of him after saving his work, still not opening the communication. What could it possibly be? It was blinking in the color for urgent and he couldn't begin to fathom as to what it could be. Finally resolving to open it with a hint of trepidation before a wave of confusion swept through him. There was nothing actively written but an alert like one would send if you crash landed. He could track it of course... but why him? Why wouldn't he comm Soundwave or his ship? This didn't make sense and certainly seemed like a trap.

          But... deep in his spark he still cared for Megatron. Nobody knew him as he did and Megatron wasn't prone to such schemes, Starscream was a different story but Megatron tended to prefer direct challenges. This could only mean one thing.

"Ratchet, open a ground bridge to..." Realizing belatedly he wasn't exactly sure as no coordinates had been sent. A strange tremor of cold terror seemed to spread outward from his spark.

"I need to know where you want it to go Optimus. I can't just open it for nowhere you know." The medic snorted, near the controls ready even as he stared at the prime oddly but with general amusement.

          Bumblebee gave a trill of beeps roughly translated into a generalized worried sound. They'd all been more concerned over him since he'd stayed on the Nemesis as Orion Pax and only recently made it back to them. He'd barely re-integrated with them properly yet. Already picturing the ensuing issue this would cause.

"I require a track on a message, a distress signal. It was sent directly to me without coordinates or message. I believe you will need to accompany me on this mission."  
The walk towards Ratchet had him opening the panel in his wrist and removing an access line for the medic to tap into. He dampened his audials for what he was certain the reaction would be the moment Ratchet saw what he was truly asking. At least the children were in school and both Bulkhead and Arcee were out on patrol so there would be less general yelling and cursing. Not sure who would win the award between Arcee and Ratchet for most likely to curse him out over this but he didn't feel he had a choice.

"Sure Optimus." An odd look passed over Ratchet's faceplates as he connected the line in to read the approximate range. It was only a moment before the expected reaction came. He should have cut off his audial feed entirely.

"MEGATRONUS? OPTIMUS! You can't be serious! This is an OBVIOUS trap! How could you even begin to think to follow this!?"

          Bumblebee's curiously worried beeping filled in the gaps between the yelling making him feel even worse. Still, he had to go with his spark on this and he was sure that Megatron actually needed help.

"That may be Ratchet, and I understand your concern, but I think he genuinely is in need of assistance. This could be a chance to actually end the war, by showing compassion. Please, open the groundbridge."  
The concern in the prime's voice struck Ratchet deep in his spark, a quiet ventilation before he nodded. Glaring back at the screen as he pushed in the coordinates.

"I don't like this Optimus... but somebody has to go with you to watch your back when you do this idiotic altruistic slag you're prone to. These coordinates are only approximate as they seem to have been sent somewhere above the planet. Fragging flight frames..." Ratchet Grumbled but he opened the groundbridge, grabbing his tools.

“You wish to join me Ratchet?” Optimus seemed surprised but his field reflected the joy he felt. It had been an incredibly long while since the pair of them had a mission alone together.

          A series of angry beeps joined Ratchet's grumbling. "No Bumblebee! You have to stay here, to be ready to bridge US back. Yes, US. No arguments! If I don't get to complain about him going neither do you! If that stupid fragger isn’t tricking Optimus than I’ll…. Have to repair him and you have no medical expertise.” Cringing at the idea of repairing the warlord, overriding his frame’s desire to bring energon up his intake. He’d rather let him rot in a hole, preferably a deep, dark hole filled with crazed insecticons. He was a medic and had taken the oath of his profession though and knew he would save him. “If it’s just Megatron… we should be fine…. Hopefully. Probably. Regardless, one of us has to stay here to bridge us back.”

          The care his team had for him warmed his spark and he could only wish the same for all of their race to feel so cared for. Battle protocols readied as his mask slid over his faceplate and he walked into the glowing entrance. Bumblebee was distressed at being forced to stay behind but ready to bridge them or the others back from their patrols at least. The glow of the bridge filled his vision before it cut out.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

          Megatron's vents heaved, energon steaming off of his extremely heated frame. Shallow dents and scratches covered him from helm to pede, almost nowhere was left untouched but most of the marks seemed to be closer to his midsection and thighs. 'To offline me they're going about it oddly enough. Why do they not aim for my spark chamber?' He'd given up on talking to any of them, not a single one had responded to him in the slightest, not even seeming to comprehend that he was speaking to them. Covered in energon mostly from his own soldiers, pieces of frames pulled off and even used as weapons in attempts to get them off of him. Tired and joints strained, still he remained on his pedes, growling out as his processor grew more muddled.

          Both his officers were close as he sensed them by their EM fields, but his optics seemed to have fritzed as his senses were giving conflicting information. The visual feed he received couldn't be right. Surrounded by deep white rock, cracks littering the crater his crash had made and stretching into the distance. Everything was shiny and bright and the dark cloud of the surrounding Eradicons had become a pulsing mass.

          Peeling a cable off of his shoulder with more difficulty than he would ever admit, glaring at Soundwave, or where he believed him to be given his visual feed was glitching. 'Why am I so overheated??' Another quick diagnostic check brought back nothing being wrong. Zero errors with his frame and his system was acting like he was perfectly normal beyond the damages to his outer frame! The brief distraction had him let out a curse as his ankles were pulled out from under him, landing hard on his chassis. Grunting as he lifted himself to his servos. The cables tightened around his legs as he was forced to spread his thighs to keep him at least on his knees and not flat on the ground beneath him.

          Starscream was quick to jump on the opportunity, sharp claws prodded the transformation seams along his thighs, pricking almost gently at his protoform beneath. A kick to the seeker dislodged him only briefly before he was back on him, undeterred in the slightest.  
'Why not just kill me? What is this ludicrous plan?!? To drive me insane??' Megatron felt like he would go mad, unable to keep much thought between the growing heat and the forceful EM fields that surrounded him.

          Another cable tightened around his shoulders, movement all but impossible now with his aching and overheated frame beginning to struggle to obey even his most basic commands for it. He felt the cables tense and tighten, dragging his entire frame back across the ground beneath him, presumably towards his Third. Claws pierced the ground beneath him, leaving gouges as he attempted to slow his backward movement.

          A screech from Starscream as the seeker shifted himself more across his bent legs in an effort to remain with the prone warlord. He refrained from trying to look over his shoulder pauldrons, knowing from experience he wouldn't be able to see into his biggest blind spot. An angry rumble echoed out of him as Starscream's claws found their way between the gaps in his armor along his hips, even daring across his intimate panel covering. A cringe brought momentary clarity to his fogged processor and he rocked away from the touch as best he could. It was of little use in his current position and the seeker's claws were quick to follow his movement.

          Soundwave knelt next to him, visor bright and EM field flickered over his own gently and he was left even more confused. Their actions made so sense to his battle scenarios. 'Were they not seeking to deactivate me??' Sharp fingers reached towards his upper arm to trace a scarred bit of protoform, rubbing the sensitive spot softly. Of course, Soundwave knew of the scar... he'd given it to him in the gladiatorial arena. The closest match he'd ever fought to a standstill. One of the few without a clear victor, at least when the odds were fair!

          A deep rumble as he felt a tongue sliding against his seams along his backside. 'Starscream?'. Processor stalled as he tried to reason what was happening to him and with who. Starscream couldn't be trusted but Soundwave was, at least he used to be. How did the two of them could have joined together and they'd managed to get all of his soldiers on board with their nefarious plot! It was getting harder and harder to think of escape, his ability to reason beyond muddled.

          Error messages littered his HUD about his temperature and he was forced to let his frame expand his armor to release the pent-up heat. A dangerous maneuver for the delicate protoform beneath at even the best of times. He almost rumbled in pleasure at the release of the heat before he felt the click of his intimate panel sliding away. No override worked to get it back in place and he jerked forward as he felt a slim appendage enter his valve with a deep invent against his frame. He would have said it was like an earth animal of some sort but he couldn't seem to recall specifics while being distracted. Starscream lapped at his outer node before pushing his tongue back inside his valve, sliding deeper and thrumming against his valve. A shiver went up his spinal strut and his traitorous frame rocked back into the attention it received. It was charging him up far faster than he'd experienced in his past encounters, frame responding more readily. I had been an infinitely long time but that couldn't possibly explain the readiness in which his frame was reacting to his officers.

          Cables slid up his legs and tightened around his hips, spreading his knee joints further apart. This was the most he'd ever seen Starscream and Soundwave work together and yet still their EM fields spiked against each other - vying for the dominant position. His claws gripped into the white rock beneath him as he tried to lean away from the attention his valve was receiving. While he wasn’t hating it, he felt too much confusion at what was happening to just let it occur without some fight. He hadn't asked for this so he at least had to struggle for his own sanity to deal with later. If they didn't intend to kill him after they were done anyways. ‘Let them try! I’ve survived far more than they can manage!’ A grating hiss as he bared his fangs at them, daring them to do their worst… ‘or best’. The unbidden thought as another pulse through his array, the crackling charge jumping between their frames like tendrils of flame.

          Starscream's tongue thrust between the folds of his valve, the heated slippery appendage filling the swiftly lubricating passage. The Seeker's eager flight engines causing a subtle vibration and Megatron moaned out despite himself. It had been so long since he'd allowed anyone near himself, especially when it came to his valve. Not since before the start of the war. Rocking back into the other's faceplates, trying to get his deepest node pressed to that eager tongue. The rush of lubricant from his valve should have caused some concern for how quickly his frame was responding but his over-heated processor was incapable of more than a thought at a time right now.

          Soundwave leaned against the warlord's frame, his visor bright and flickering but not communicating in any manner Megatron was used to. The cables tightened before a soft charge went through them, tickling his frame where they held him. Long fingers pricked through his neck wiring, teasingly scratching and pinching the sensitive wiring. Soundwave had probably watched him once with his previous partner and remembered what he had liked from that time.

          Another long moan echoed out of him at the continued attention, unable to realize when multiple eradicons had crept closer to scrape their claws along his frame. Starscream was quick to remove his tongue to snarl at their proximity, weapon system booting up and they backed away from them. The fields of both his officers quickly spiked as they both scared off the eradicons away from their trine-embracement. That was something at least... His officers were unwilling to let the rest of his army all get a piece of him. Still, this whole thing made no sense and he wished he could process what was happening. Were they seeking his eventual deactivation or not?

          The Eradicons distracted the pair just long enough for him to slip his bonds, rising unsteadily to his pedes. They turned in sync towards him once more when they detected his escape. 'That was unnerving.' His blades were damaged from the fall and refused to come out so he would be relying solely on his claws and strength. His valve clenched and a small stream of lubricant slid down his leg, both mechs optics watching it intently before leaping at him. They were both faster than him, especially in his condition and he went down on his back with a roar, armor creaking and cracking from the force.

          Soundwave’s cables were winding around his thighs more tightly this time, spreading him so he was on display for the entire armada. Valve in full view of every pair of optics, the dark folds striking against his silver armor, glistening with lubricant. The purple biolights running along each side bouncing light off of his frame like a mirror. The mechs around were entranced and Megatron couldn’t manage to feel embarrassed with the worshipful stares he was receiving.

          One of Soundwave's cables thrust into his valve, ending the calm, stroking it's clenching walls before Starscream's claws attempted to yank it back out. Those claws so close to his valve gave a cold rush through his system. He reached down to yank the cable out his valve himself before the crazed seeker did damage to it in his crazed state. His valve was not as happy about the removal and clenched down on itself painfully.

          A deep groan resonated through him and both mechs were quick to caress his armor gaps with servos, attempting to calm him for whatever reason. Their EM fields licked at his plating as eagerly as Starscream’s tongue along the rest of his armor. They seemed almost to work in tandem down his frame, but the lower they got the more frantic they seemed to become. Soon they were both accessing his hips and they hissed at each other. The tangy scent of ozone surrounded the three of them as the pair turned and began grappling with each other.

          At least the reprieve from their attention allowed him to drag himself away a few paces. The Eradicons still trapped him inside a ring of Electromagnetic crackling frames, preventing any escape unless he were to attempt flight again but he doubted his engines would manage any sort of distance right now. Servos from them already drifting close to pet his shoulders, starting lightly. He growled at them but they didn’t stop; though they didn’t move too low either. ‘Good enough… at least there is still some sense to them through his madness.’

          Starscream and Soundwave stalked each other, one bared his fangs and Soundwave’s cables reared up like a scorpion, ready to deliver a devastating strike should he get the opportunity. Megatron watched them, optics brightening at the scene before him. Part of him… buried deep down, somewhat enjoyed what he was witnessing. ‘Who wouldn’t want to be fought over after all?’ But he detested that he was still having trouble figuring out why they seemed out of their processors along with the Eradicons. ‘Knock Out must know but he is still blocking comms entirely and there is nobody else on board the ship!’ He couldn’t worry about that now though.

          The pair of high commanding officers moved in unison, claws and cables pulling and tearing into each other in a way that reminded him of his gladiatorial days. It was enticing to watch if he was honest. Their movements were fluid and natural as much as deadly and violent. It was striking and beautiful to watch… hopefully, he would remember it later. It would make excellent poetry. Their frames became littered with gouges and dents, energon staining themselves and the white beneath them. They were both heaving in deep ventilations, frames taunt and ready for more. Entranced as he was he couldn’t sit still any longer, he needed to put a stop to this madness before he lost them both.

          The large warlord rose to his pedes, optics brightening as he watched them a moment more, his temperature gauge rising a few more degrees for his reaction to it. Whatever virus they had could be infecting him as well, just differently. ‘If I could at least get Soundwave back to his senses we could get back to the ship and I could demand Knock Out fix whatever is wrong with all of us! I’m going to cleave that shiny red armor off of him for abandoning us to this slag!’ The heat of his frame and growing frustration snapped something in him and he plunged back between his officers, servos grabbing each of them with a deep resonating roar that echoed for miles around them.

“Enough! Soundwave we NEED to get to the ship!” Their fight halted with his yell and only a small flicker of light in their optics told them they had even heard him yell. 

          The pair pressed against him, their servos once again wandering his frame with utter abandon. He picked up Starscream, glaring dagger at the seeker as the other’s servos pricked and plucked at his wiring beneath his armor along his arms.

“Master…. “ A deep rumbling came from the seeker but it brought no sense of relief to the warframe. “Let me close…” The other’s EM field was warm and pulsing against his own making it hard to think. 

“Why? What do you plan to do? I can’t trust a conniving traitor.” The words were meant to come out so much more venomous than they did, almost whispering them at his SIC. His servos relaxed despite the words, the seeker trilling as he pressed to his front, latching against him as his teeth found the wires at his neck. A deep groan as the heat in his valve pulsed, swaying slightly. Surely he had gotten processor damage in the fall before.

          Soundwave’s cables wrapped around and pulled him gently to the ground, Starscream clinging to him and straddling him. moving between his legs. Soft strokes to his swollen valve lips had him raise his hips slightly, the scant relief making him chase after the claws. The sound of a panel sliding back failed to register before he felt something nudged at his valve. ‘Must be one of his cables again…’ He just leaned back into the rock beneath him, letting it fill him. It didn’t feel like a cable though, seemed differently shaped as he felt it pressed against his entrance, piercing him slowly. His walls adjusted, gripping down hard as they cycled into place trying to pull the appendage in more when he realized it was definitely not a cable.

          Starscream had moved to actually press their lip plates together, sucking on his bottom lip and he bit at the seeker for the presumptive action. The flash of Starscream’s EM field was filled with excitement rather than pain even with the energon leaking down his chin. The arrogant seeker intensified his movement instead, rutting against his lower half and shoving his tongue into his oral cavity. He could taste his own lubricant still on the other’s tongue and tried to push the offending appendage away. It only encouraged the seeker, sharp claws gripped at his chest armor, clinging on like a cyber leech.

          Soundwave’s EM field was almost gentle, almost forgettable while Megatron was distracted but it flared suddenly as he felt his TIC’s spike enter his valve. Unable to prevent the wince from the deeper parts of his unused valve feeling connections online. He attempted to buck the other off of himself but Soundwave must have read his mind as cables spooled out and held him down roughly, wrapping tightly to prevent any movement.

          Starscream had yet to notice what was happening beyond that he had acquired unfettered access to Megatron’s frame and the seeker was quick to take advantage of the tangled up warlord. No longer were his touches stopped or movements hindered in his unbridled desire to touch and grasp everything before him. His tongue slid between neck wiring, oral lubricant dripping in his eagerness to please the large silver frame beneath him.

           Megatron groaned for all the attention his frame received from the pair. Unable to stop them or fight them he decided to enjoy it as he’d finally decided they weren’t out to offline him. He could have fought harder but his frame just didn’t seem to have the drive to remove himself from the situation. Filing that information away for later examination he stretches his back out, rolling his hips up into Soundwave. It wasn’t his preferred method of interface but at least he’d been with Soundwave before, only once. The Spymaster looked much the same as he had the last time they’d interfaced, splattered with energon with marks all over his frame, reminiscent of the battles in the gladiatorial pits.

          His traitorous second had finally noticed that the TIC had gotten to his goal first and the screech the seeker let out made his audials ring. Starscream prodded and pushed, clawed and even bit at Soundwave until he’d made space for himself between his leader's legs. Soundwave had his servos full of keeping Megatron and found himself removed finally. Starscream was quick to plunge his spike deep as he could, still not quite reaching Megatron’s ceiling node which was frustrating. The seeker moved with the speed he was known for, slamming himself into Megatron’s valve over and over and he could feel his calipers trying to keep up with the almost brutal pace. He would never admit later to enjoying the way it forced his calipers into overdrive but the speed from the friction alone has his anterior node pulsing. Starscream would most certainly never be told of it, he would be impossible to deal with should he even remember this. He hoped none of them recalled this happening if they were able to fix whatever had gone wrong with their processors..

           ‘At least my valve is lubricating quite a lot… Surprising given my frame burning through most of my internal fluids right now.’ Error messages popped up, filling his HUD and he cleared them so he wouldn’t become distracted. He needed to keep his wits about himself as much as possible. At this point, he couldn’t help but wonder if the Autobots had finally resorted to some form of chemical warfare. That could explain this madness. For whatever reason, it only made his frame frighteningly hot and lubricated while it made everyone else into interface-demanding drones of themselves.

          Helm thunked back against the white sandy ground beneath him, trying to keep his processor focused with his optics cutting out. He swore he saw a flash of light in the distance but it was most likely a glint off some rocks. It definitely didn’t have the colors blue and red. Optics shut as he pushed his array against Starscream’s. ‘Neither of them are going to be able to get to my ceiling node. This is intolerable. And my Spike hasn’t even pressurized?? Am I to get no relief from this ridiculous nonsense!?’ Energy levels dropped further and he didn’t even have a chance to try and clear his HUD of the stasis message before he succumbed to a system crash.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

          Optimus Prime stepped through the ground bridge, Ratchet close behind him. Their optics scanned over the bright white landscape, noticing there was almost nothing around beyond a moving mass a few miles to their left. The white stretched around them for miles, the ground cracked and almost mirror like in places with the sun reflecting off of it.

“We’re in the Utah Salt Flats, as the humans call them.” Ratchet answered his unvoiced question and he smiled at his old friend. Focusing his optics towards the only thing near their location, the dark mass. He was already moving away towards it even though the medic walked slower, his scanners on high alert.

“Optimus, I am getting some strange readings from that pile of Cons. This seems like a trap.”

“Ratchet, it may be but I was called for help. What are your scanners picking up?”

          The medic hesitated, predicting the other’s next moves easily given their long association. He took a deep invent as he looked up at the other, obviously not keen on sharing the information but unable to lie to Optimus.

“I sense energon. A lot of it and it’s definitely Megatron’s. I recognize it. But! I’m seeing an awful lot of cons down there with him, they be able to handle what is happening to him on their own and if not? Well, We shouldn’t have to help with whatever slag he’s gotten involved in Optimus! Let the war die with him!! Or let this trap they set for you fail! I don’t want to be patching you up because of your soft spark for that monster!”

          Ratchet planted his pedes, refusing to move. He glared up at Optimus Prime, wondering why he had even let them get this far into this ridiculous idea! Let Megatron die for all he cared. He knew if he saw the warlord actually in trouble his medic programming would be hard pressed to balk at helping him. It was what he was sparked to do and he’d never turned away anyone at his facility before… but the slagmaker deserved to die!

          “Ratchet…” Optimus stared down at him, giving that sad patient smile he’d perfected when he knew his current plan of action wasn’t going to be well received. “Even Megatron is a Cybertronian and I am his prime as much as yours. He sent me a distress signal and I will see that it is answered or I am no better than those we once stood against together. I understand if you wish to go back.” A huge but gentle servo rested briefly against Ratchet’s shoulder before the prime turned towards the dark mass and heading towards it at a brisk pace. Ratchet swore before following at a more sedated pace behind the other, unable to leave him to his fate.

          He heard a deep roar and Optimus knew it was Megatron instantly, something inside of him recognizing the sound as pained. Ratchet’s words had worried him and he slowly gained in speed before he was running towards the area. The closer he got the more distress he felt. The behavior he was seeing did not appear normal. There was a strange tang to the air around them, the scent coming from the wind sweeping towards them carrying something his olfactories couldn’t quite place. He didn’t even hear Ratchet’s voice calling for him to stop.

          The Eradicons were grabbed and thrown away from him in his sudden unrelenting desire to get to the center. Audials picked up grunts and the grinding of metal. Then there was that scent… He’d never smelled anything quite like it. His ventilations increased and his optics cycled to their widest setting as he neared the center of the ring, the Eradicons… were hissing at him? That was unusual but Decepticons had always tended to more animalistic tendencies so he didn’t think on it too much and he had to get past them. Finally the last of them were thrown out of his way and every process he had stalled at the scene before him.

          Megatron, his helm thrown back, legs spread with Soundwave holding him in place and Starscream buried to his hilt. ‘What. What am I seeing??’ His processor was fogging and he ran forward, pulling Starscream away first. A rage he’d never felt filled him as he saw the dents and gouges all over Megatron’s frame, bright pink energon leaking onto the pristine white rock. ‘IS he even functioning?’ Soundwave was more difficult to remove, so many extremities wound and grasping at the miner’s frame.

          Optimus roared out, a blinding rage and desire filled him and he tore at the dark mech’s appendages, ripping them or forcing the other to release Megatron from his grasp. Both Starscream and Soundwave stared at him, growling but intimidated by this new opponent they faced.

          “What is wrong with you??” Assuming the worst from what he had seen, disgust filling him with what appeared to have happened. Optics looked down at Megatron, seeing his open intimate panel with his dripping valve on display. Staring at it openly before despite himself before pulling his gaze away with great effort. He bit his lip derma to center himself. ‘Why am I distracted by the sight of him like this?’ Shaking his helm as if to clear the fog he grabbed the warlord and brought him close to his chassis, holding him close.

          Somewhere he could hear Ratchet shouting about something but he couldn’t make out the words. Growling as Starscream and Soundwave edged closer, claws trying to pull the warlord from his grasp. A snarl erupted from him when they pulled Megatron slightly away from and he gathered the other more into his arms. It was difficult to think with the haze to his processor.

          A bright light erupted nearby him and it startled him before he felt a servo on his shoulder. Turning to look he saw a white mech with red marks and he snarled at him, ready to defend the unconscious frame he held.

          “Optimus! Run through the portal. SAFE THERE. GO” The yelling made him glare at this strange mech but the other’s field didn’t spike at him the way the other mechs here did. He did want to get away from them. There should not be so many around him and the nice smelling mech. The other pushed at him, trying to get him to move. Everyone else around them seemed to have begun fighting with each other so having anyone help seemed a bonus. Picking up the damaged frame and running towards the glowing light and through it. He felt disoriented and collapsed into a clean smelling room containing a medical berth.

          The Prime looked around before he dragged the inactive frame with him to a corner, feeling a strange need to make a den of some sort. His processor felt foggy but he knew he had to keep this mech with him, close. His. This was his mate. Or would be. A glance up at the one who had helped them escape, he was staring down at the pair of them, speaking but the words didn’t process to Optimus. Lost in a haze of his own with an unconscious partner in his servos. He wasn’t sure about a lot at the moment but the familiarity he felt with this mech told him all he needed to know for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet reveals exactly what is happening to everyone and attempts to keep Team Prime beyond Optimus from being "infected" in the next chapter. Find out if he has any luck next week!  
> Once more beta'ed by PrisonMechanic who I can't thank enough for doing so!


	3. Hot Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Megatron learns exactly what is happening but no immediate fix is found and Team Prime has an issue.

        Ratchet watched Optimus rush into the crowd of Decepticons, unheeding to the shouts of his concerned medic. 'Fraggin' Prime!' Grumbling as his sensors began to pick up on various scent markers shifting in the air around him, optics widening as he recognized them. His processor promptly placed a block on his receptors. Even with the block, he wasn't completely unaffected by them. 'Of course, Megatron couldn't have a NORMAL heat. Presumably some damn leftover from Unicron's blood.'

        The Prime had already reached the center and was showing signs of being under the thrall of the Warlord's heat; his processor scrambled enough that he roared out at the rest of the cons. Admittedly, Megatron wasn't looking to be in any condition to hurt Optimus... As the medic looked at the amount of energon staining the ground he realised Megatron couldn't have been trying to trick Optimus by comming him. Megatron may be deceptive, but he wouldn't purposefully hamper his ability to fight merely to trick an opponent. It would be beneath him. Even Ratchet had to agree he had some sense of honor... Which, of course, meant Megatron indeed needed help when he had commed.

         "Unicron to the pits with the lot of you!" Growling as he saw Optimus force somebot out of his way; already well into the thick of the enemy army. 'Of course, you'd dive right in... Fragging soft sparked mess of a Prime...' Quickly he commed Bumblebee. :: Bee, Listen. I need an absolutely exact coordinated groundbridge that I'm about to databurst to you. They have to be exact, and I require it in ten clicks.:: Cutting his com off as the medic pulled out his blaster. They needed to acquire just enough of a pathway for Optimus to run through. Ratchet hoped he could convince Optimus to leave Megatron behind but that seemed an exercise in futility.

        Making a path out of the heat-addled cons ended up being easier than the medic hoped for; what with their current mentality. He got to his leader faster than expected, brandishing his weapon at the surrounding mechs. 'I would struggle with just Optimus by himself...' The temptation to leave Megatron behind was strong but Optimus showed no signs of letting go of the stasis-locked warlord. With no way to manage the weight of one, let alone both of them, he altered his plan to include Megatron.

         The path was made as best he could and the portal opened exactly on time. The medic shouted and had to grab at one of Optimus's finials to startle his leader enough to look at him so he could point the way out. The heat haze had well consumed gentle spark of his friend; far swifter than was considered standard. 'I'll have to administer some tests on them both...' Grumbling as he got the Prime to pick up the warlord and run through the portal at last without the rest of the armada on their heels.

        His spark pulsed madly from the adrenaline as Ratchet realized they'd practically brought an army directly into their base! There was nothing to do for it and it had been worth the risk. Ratchet doubted that he would have gotten the Prime to drag Megatron all the way into the base if they'd bridged outside of their Earth-based home anyways. Not to mention they didn't want Megatron recognizing what the outside of their base looked like. Bumblebee could be heard scrambling to get to them but Ratchet halted him before he got too close to the potent warlord.

:: Bumblebee! He's functioning fine... Well Mostly fine. But I can't have you come in here! Everyone else needs to be bridged back outside the base and to stay away from the medical area. Everyone!::

        Distressed beeps answered his declaration, but hearing that Optimus Prime was fine calmed the scout at least enough to stall him from storming inside the medical bay. Sighing as he stepped up to the bundle of mechs and looking down at the pair. Optimus was entangled around Megatron, arms and servos grasped onto him tightly, claw like. It was definitely more possessive than he would have expected given their eons apart from each other... It had been a long time but Ratchet had never seen this strong of a reaction to a heat.

        Pulling up everything on miner-subtype frames, wincing as he downloaded it and began looking through everything he’d found. There was much less information than he’d hoped for. 'Not surprising, his frame type wasn't expected to receive many repairs.' He hated remembering that Megatron wasn't wholly an insufferable monster; at least before the war he hadn’t been… When an angry poet stood for those that couldn’t. Even Ratchet had listened to the words that had resonated through a subjected populace.

        Ratchet vented as he stepped closer to the two leaders, radiating as much calm as he could manage to put out. Spark pulsed in a calming melody to reflect in his EM field, he crept closer slowly. Optimus's optics were narrowed at him and his usually gentle servos gripped the warlord tighter but he had stopped growling. Ratchet turned his helm to the side and rose his lower arm panels up. The markings there should register to the deeper programming that all Cybertronian's had programmed. It took a while but Optimus's optics finally focused, following the path of the distinct orange medical symbol and his frame relaxed and the medic moved close.

         "Going to fix him." Pointing at the warlord, reaching and wiping at the energon leak on his knee and holding it up.  
"Patch him up for you." The Prime gave no recognition to the words but he allowed the medic closer to begin working.

        Stemming the obvious leaks and hoping there weren't many internal injuries, fixing their enemy up. A ping from Arcee marked urgent was ignored. Bumblebee would need to deal with it. He took samples from the external energon and as many scans as possible to look over after he was done with obvious injuries. Ratchet would have liked to open up his chassis and get a better look but doubted Optimus would allow him to get very far with that procedure. Heat-addled mechs tended to get funny with any parts of their 'mates' spark being exposed. It would have endangered sparklings if they had started creation so it made sense, not that there was any chance he’d been sparked… yet.

        Slowly the warlord was cleaned up and Optimus relaxed more as his coding registered the effects of the care being provided. 'Mate was hurt. Bad. Healer fixed. Good.' Optimus churred and rubbed a cheek against the silver mech's helm, noting he was still in stasis. The other's heat scent was strengthening as he was fixed though; and that was very pleasing. 'Mate will wake soon. Will show what good sire that I can be. Saved. Keep safe. Only mine.' The possessive swell of Optimus’s EM field nearly choked the medic back, and he found a sense of pleasure that he could get that reaction. Pushing it again, driving the healer away. 'Job done. Mine now.'

         "Ugh, fine. Clean him yourself." Ratchet rose, nearly purging with the effect as he threw a cleaning cloth near Optimus. If he'd been heat-addled as well it would have caused a fight to break out for dominance. Instead, Ratchet went to look over the scans he'd taken of the warlord and compared it to any history on his particular frame type. It didn't help that Megatron had altered his alt-mode but Ratchet knew what the warlord used to be anyways.

        Arcee continued to ping him but he was lost deep in the scans and looking through the information that he had gathered; slowly piecing together what was happening. Optics widening as he realized exactly what had caused this, the puzzle pieces falling into place as he grimaced.

    "Ratchet! What are you doing treating Megatron?!" Arcee chose that moment to burst in, obviously angry at being ignored and knowing only a small part of what was happening.

        Before Ratchet could stop her he saw her frame stiffen, optics brightening and directing themselves onto the warlord. Megatron was just beginning to online, slowly groaning and Ratchet saw Optimus begin to rise up, a deep rumbling growl as his optics directed onto the femme. Placing himself between the warlord and the motorcycle, armor flared outward. Ratchet wouldn’t be surprised if he roared.

    "ARCEE. Get out of here!" Storming at her, pushing at her as hard as he could, all the way out of the door. Thankfully she was still in that pre-state of heat-addled so she was easy enough to move. At least it hadn't been Bulkhead. Getting her out of the scent zone was the most prudent course of action. Blasting her with a medical scent through his vents, hoping it worked to clean Megatron’s off of her frame. She cycled her optics several times, her vents struggling.

     "Ra-Ratchet? What the frag was that about? I feel like I blacked out??" Putting a servo to her helm, momentarily forgetting the presence of Megatron. Her pedes took a few steps back towards the medical bay but Ratchet stopped her.  
"What..?" Staring at the medic’s servos, her processor fogged; optics twitched and brightened with the pulse of her spark. It was obvious she had come close to succumbing to the heat coding.

     "You need to leave, go to Jack's, go anywhere! You've been infected with the coding. Not as bad as Optimus has. Unless you want to fight the prime for the right to mate with Megatron?" Raising his optic ridge at her. Arcee had unconventional tastes in the past for berth partners, it would be interesting to know if she would. Not that he would allow her to fight the prime. Megatron was much more likely to tear her apart for touching him when he came out of stasis anyways.

     "What coding?? Did Megatron do this? Why is he here!?" Arcee didn't move, not registering everything he said to her as the heat coding went through her system; turning certain protocols on and off. Feeling her interface protocols start up had her close to panic. "Ratchet... get me out of here and then EXPLAIN." Shaking as she grasped the medic, knowing her frame was not completely in control at the moment, her processor

        Ratchet was swift to grab her and get her clear of the room and outside where Bumblebee, Bulkhead, and the kids were sitting. Miko immediately jumped down from Bulkhead's cab as she was released from it at the sight of Ratchet. Bulkhead transformed, optics on the medic.

     "Ratchet! What's happening? Raf said Bumblebee bridged you and the grey doofus here! Is Unicron back or something? Do I gotta kick his butt for you!" The small excitable girl put her fists up as Bulkhead groaned and grabbed her as she started moving to go inside. “Don’t stop me! I can mess him up!”

     "I really don't want to have this discussion, though out of all of us the children may be the least affected by what's happening in there." Ratchet dropped down on his aft; faceplates turned down into his servos as he vented loudly. He'd have to explain it... as best he could. He wasn't sure on when human children began to understand 'bearings and bolts', as the Cybertronian saying went, so he’d keep it relatively simple. Bumblebee beeped softly and came to stand next to him, resting a servo on his back plates.

     "Yes 'Bee, Optimus is fine. Well. Sort of. He's- You came so late in the war I doubt you've had too many chances to experience a heat. But maybe you've heard of it at least? Bulkhead and Arcee would have had experience with them more than you. Megatron, the unholy slagmaker, has gone into heat."

        Arcee rocked back, realizing exactly what coding had begun infecting her and almost looked ready to purge. Bulkhead's optics bulged and he stared at Ratchet.

     "What are you saying? Bossbot is... with Megatron right now? I can't believe he's willingly like that doc. Heats aren't that strong. Sure, you get excited, but you don't frag your enemy!" The large green mech looked ready to punch Ratchet for insinuating such a thing could possibly be happening. There was no way his leader would bend over like that, even if he wasn’t the one doing the bending!

         Ratchet cringed at Bumblebee's confused beeps, trying to work out how to further explain this. The children looked confused but he wasn't about to translate their Cybertronian terms into human ones; he was sure the thought of fleshing relations would make him purge anyway. Shaking his helm as he looked up at them all, thinking through his next words carefully.

         "Ratchet, I wasn't even in optic distance of him. Why is his heat so strong?" Arcee almost whispered it, taking an additional step away from the entrance as if the smell was leaking out. There was no way she wanted to join in on whatever was happening in there.  
         "Why do we even have the slag maker here in our base when that's happening?? What sort of scheme is this??" Vocalizer rising in pitch, even Bulkhead was surprised at her reaction as she gripped her arms tightly to herself. The little motorcycle looking close to a very out of character panic. Given the circumstances that wasn’t surprising.

         "Megatron was a miner; large mining mechs were built with a failsafe. They were built with a dampener in place for their adult frames for their heats. Can you imagine if they got clanging in the dark and dangerous mines of our planet? It would be disastrous. But... because they were considered slave units-" Ratchet cringed at the looks the children sent his way, knowing they couldn't understand the depth of depravity their kind had committed on eachother even before the war. Megatron had been right about that at least and he knew better than most about that... Another invent before he found the courage he needed to continue.

         "But, to create cheap new units they also were given an extreme heat cycle. Often a miner... would lose the use of their legs and arms due to cave-ins. Rather than simply repairing them and losing time from their work they would be forced into a breeding protocol. After all-" Gritting his dentae as he looked at the sky above them. "Why would you have them go for multiple check-ups rather than one multi-check up? They were used to carry for mechs in stations above them often, their frames depleted of nutrients for those that had trouble due to their own size limitations. Larger frames have always had an easier time producing sparklings, their frames are simply more suited to the task of building and protecting."

         "But why now Ratchet? Why hasn't he had one like this before? What turned off his dampener and how the frag do we turn it back on? I don't really understand what's happening, but there's got to be a way right?" Jack looked up at Ratchet, getting some of the gists of what this meant but really- REALLY not wanting to think about it in terms of human anatomy." It's like a computer program right? Just reinstall it."

         "I can't! That's the problem! I refused to deal with the control of others like that, so I don't have the knowledge of the parts required or even where to place them in his frame. If I could even halt his heat now! I’ve never heard of anyone halting a heat once it’s begun." Throwing up his servos in frustration, looking towards the door of their hideout. 'Optimus... of all of us to be involved with this...' Another deep groan as he stared at the ground, kicking a small boulder out of his way petulantly. 'Those two were so connected before the war, this will mess Optimus up for ages after the heat has dissipated.'

         "So what do we do now?" Raf walked over to Bumblebee, placing his servo on his friend's pede gently before being picked up by the yellow scout. Bumblebee also beeped in binary something along the same line of questioning.

         "Now?? Now we wait and hope his heat dissipates from... his and Optimus's activities. I have no idea how long it will last. I go back in there and explain to the pair of them what's happening and you three take your wards to their homes and STAY there until I let you know it's safe. Unless you want to interface with Megatron and fight Optimus for him? I promise I will try not to judge anyone for their interface kinks."

         Another deep invent as he straightened his back struts to head back inside. Thankfully none of the other Autobots followed him. While he had said he wouldn't judge them, he definitely would have, at least to wonder why they wanted to interface with Megatron. Was it to basically have an excuse to force themselves on the warlord? Deplorable. Did they find him attractive? Well, that wouldn't be surprising. He wasn't an unattractive mech after all. But Or-Optimus had rights first and they'd have to fight for their right to get near the warlord. Would they willingly fight Optimus, their leader? He certainly hoped not.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

         Optimus had been about to attack the femme that had entered his den, field spiking at her loud vocalizations and the way her field had become threatening. The medic had gotten her out before that thought and it calmed the coding only slightly. He needed to make his den better fortified. That way when his mate awoke he would be pleased with him. Picking his mate up, struggling with the weight of him. 'Large mate. Many sparklings. Good find.' A pleased chirr swept through him and something in his chassis vibrated warmth around his spark, sending a general feeling of being pleased towards his mate.

         Roving around a hallway, glancing around until he found a darkened back room. It contained something smelling of energon and oil. It also had no windows and only the door. This seemed good for what he was looking for; defensible and comforting. There was even a berth to the side. Excellent! Chirring as he laid the silver mech down before blocking the door. Optimus heard someone shouting but paid it no mind as he moved things around to block the door. Making his mate safe and unattainable for anyone else was the only goal.

         The shouts got louder, nearing their location. Optimus found himself growling and he double-checked that the door was blocked from anyone entering. Grabbing a cube of energon he found and drinking it down before getting another and bringing it back to his mate. 'Need to wake now.' Servos pet against the other's thighs and chassis, gentle but becoming more demanding. His coding was pushing his need for urgency to mate but his mate was on-lining so slowly.

         "Fuel for the mate." Words existed in his processor but getting them vocalized was a chore right now. Still, something told him it may work with this particular mech, a strange memory of him talking pretty words once before. Placing a drop of energon against the scarred lip plates, chirring when they moved slightly. 'Good!'

 

         Megatron came to his senses slowly, the weight of a warm frame around him and the taste of energon. 'Interesting... ' He tried to online his optics but had to wait through several protocols since he'd had a stasis shut down. It took longer than normal but the first thing that greeted him was Prime's bright blue optics staring into his own. Growling as he shoved the other away from him immediately, standing before wavering on his pedes. Optimus's servos' were on him instantly, assisting him and he hissed at the touch. Optimus didn't back off though.

         "What are you doing Prime?" Looking into his faceplate he saw that same lack of awareness as his armada had gotten. "Really?? What exactly is happening? I suppose at least I know it's not your autobots doing at least. Maybe MECH then..." Growling as he looked around, seeing the door blocked by several large things. Megatron heard a shout from outside, recognizing Ratchet's voice.

         "What is the meaning of this medic?!?" Shouting as he moved to the door, the Prime keening and pushing back every item that he tried to remove from his path out.  
"Stop that!" The Prime did not stop, instead, attempting to grab him and pull him back. His frame was still overheating and he was weakened from his repair system dealing with injuries from his fall earlier.

     "Megatron?? So that's where he's taken you!" Ratchet's vocalizer registered through the door comm easily, though Megatron would have to shout back as he couldn’t get to the button thanks to an over-eager truck.

     "What is happening?? Your prime is affected by some madness, same as my Armada! Explain this at once! Stop touching me!" Panting as he exerted himself in an effort to keep the truck formers servos off of his plating. It was a losing battle, especially in his weakened state.

     "Megatron... You are in heat and he's been heat-addled... It's fairly obvious." Ratchet's voice sounded slightly exasperated."You could have stayed and let your armada taken care of it. Why didn't you??"

         "You are slagged if you think I'd believe that. Heats don't exist! They're some odd excuse other mechs use to allow themselves to get too wasted on high-grade! Prime, Stop touching me!" Growling as he shoved the other's servos away, realizing his canon had been removed at some point. A flare of intense anger through his field, looking around for it. Optimus must not have realized what he was looking for as instead he was brought a cube of energon. Staring at it dubiously before sipping it down. Fuel was never something to turn down in his experience.

     "Heats are real Megatron. Have you really never had someone in your army experience a heat?" Ratchet sounded incredulous at even asking the question but Megatron couldn't concentrate on the medic, the prime's servos pulling at his intimate panel with surprising vigor.

         "I've never been affected like they are and I find myself surrounded all the time medic. You better think of another excuse for this ludicrous behavior your leader is exhibiting!" Growling as Optimus pushed and prodded at him before he felt himself fall back against the berth with a grunt.  
     "This is intolerable! Fix me this instant if you're so certain of this 'HEAT'!" Yelling and punching at Optimus's faceplates. He was still weak, and his battle protocols were refusing to come online so he didn’t cause much, if any, damage to Optimus.

     "I wish I could! There's no way to halt a heat once it's started! It needs to either feel fulfilled or run its course." The very unhelpful medic actually sounded like he meant it and Megatron worried that maybe the heat was for real.

     "Why have I never felt its effects for other’s heats? And what the frag does it need to be fulfilled??" Groaning as Optimus licked at his panel, the scorching heat eager to escape and let that glossa enter him. The fact that he was even thinking that certainly meant he was glitched as well.

     "Generally you- would get sparked?" Megatron couldn't see the other's wince, but the warlord could certainly hear it even through the door. He was getting distracted by the prime's antics enough that he couldn't muster the anger that comment truly deserved to be answered with.

     "Well, that's not an option... how long do these heats last then without fulfillment?" Another long moan, his panel inching out of the way and Optimus keened excitedly for it, doubling his efforts to get past it. Glossa licking at the edges as his servoes stroked the protoform on his thighs.

     "Well... given your frame size... and changes you made to your frame and protocols... an Earth week- At minimum?"

     "WHAT?!" Megatron tried to rise to his pedes but Optimus had just shoved his glossa inside his valve. He would be the biggest liar if it didn't make his frame light up with excitement. Panting from the heat and the energy cascading through his system. It was worth noting it did show as an effect of some sort of coding with how strong it affected him.

 

         He stopped being able to pay attention to whatever the medic was saying, if he was even still talking. Servos grasped at the finials between his thighs and stroked them roughly. 'FRag it... Maybe I can tire him out and get out of this room at least.' Leaning back, panel fully recessed back to allow Optimus access to his valve, the biolights glowing brightly and pulsing at the speed of his spark beats. 'Would it be wrong to pretend... that this was just Orion?'

         Optimus was quick to take the offering Megatron laid out before him, glossa swirling into the depths of his valve, stroking the walls as they lubricated. ‘Primus… Has he had practice recently?’ The wave of jealousy raced through him but he pushed it away. ‘This is no time to get attached… he’s left you twice before.’

         The flexible glossa was warm and cool at the same time, swirling and stroking his nodes as- As if he remembered their locations. Groaning out as he fought against too many memories of the last time he’d been in this position with… this mech. ‘No- This is Optimus, not Orion. Not Orion…’ But he really felt like he could pretend, the glossa and servos and even his field flaring in such similar patterns to the archivist.

 

         Optimus noticed his mate’s arousal growing, field flaring and lots of ventilations. All good signs. He was certain he remembered doing this before, noting exactly what was enjoyed and repeating it now. Yes, he recognized this valve and this field. It was deeply committed in his memory banks, very old files being unlocked deep in his processor. A name hovered just on the edge of his thoughts.

         His mate’s servo’s grabbed his helm finials, pulling him tighter and rocking against his faceplate. That too was what a recognizable pattern and he allowed it, eager to please his mate. Thrusting his glossa in and out, sliding it against his anterior node each time he pulled it out. His mate was venting heavily, the heat from his frame almost steaming off of him now.

         Letting his mate lead them through a bit didn’t seem such a bad idea, especially with the way he had been fighting before. Now Optimus found himself grasped and pulled close. There was an eagerness but his mate’s field also had the tang of sorrow. That wasn’t good. Optimus nuzzled to his thigh, trilling softly in an effort to bring comfort.

         A harsh snort and his mate mumbled, words not quite filtering through his processor but he felt like he understood all the same. The silver mech ground down on his faceplate, releasing a short moan and a rush of lubricant soaked his faceplate. Licking it and the valve before him; watching his mate shift and wriggle from his actions with a wave of pleasure.

         Nipping the protoform lightly before he moved up the frame beneath him. More of those mumbles, words? He couldn’t quite capture them the way he knew he should be able to but his intent was obviously clear without understanding them. His mate’s field was very expressive and open, still not happy but not pushing him away either. Claws even pulled him more towards him, growing eager even as it grew sad? Trilling at him, kissing those scarred lip plates.

        The only thing filtering through was a designation… ‘ion’ maybe? Is that my name? The familiarity of it struck him and he decided it must be. ‘Perhaps he wants me to say his name back?’ Nuzzling to his mates neck cables as he fought his processor to give him a name that matched this mech. It filtered through many offerings, the name escaping him by the smallest margin of error each time Finally his databanks offered him up something that made his spark sing with recognition.’This was it!’

         As his spike nestled into the wet heat of the primed valve beneath him, sliding slowly into place so as to not damage his precious mate. Optics locking onto the grey faceplate, listening intently as he spoke that name again, “Orion”- he caught it properly this time. Rocking gently until he was fully inside the valve beneath him, finding it tight but it stimulated all of his spike’s sensors wonderfully. Pushing all of his will into what he was sure would please his mate, rocking slowly to grind against his anterior node.

         His mate’s helm fell back with a deep moan and he gave a pleased trill, leaning close to kiss him. He was sure his mate would be so pleased when he spoke and all his will went into the designation, uttering it softly.

                 “Megatronus…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I almost thought about leaving off before Megatron and OP got into it but then I figured out a way worse cliffhanger. I'm sorry, next chapter starts with porn and probably ends with it because this ride is still chugging along.  
> Will team Prime be needed to assist? Starscream and Soundwave and an entire armada are still out there somewhere.


	4. All Hot and Bothered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Megatron learns to enjoy the company of the Autobots.

_The flexible glossa was warm and cool at the same time, swirling and stroking his nodes as- As if he remembered their locations. Groaning out as he fought against too many memories of the last time he’d been in this position with… this mech. ‘No- This is Optimus, not Orion. Not Orion…’ But he really felt like he could pretend, the glossa and servos and even his field flaring in such similar patterns to the archivist._

_\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_His mate’s helm fell back with a deep moan and he gave a pleased trill, leaning close to kiss him. He was sure his mate would be so pleased when he spoke and all his will went into the designation, uttering it softly._

 

_“Megatronus…”_

 

            His frame seemed to shut down the instant he heard Optimus, energon turned cold in his circuits at the utterance of his old designation. Megatron had been so close to enjoying himself, of merely falling into the treasured memories he'd buried deep down for so long. The only mech he'd willingly allowed near his valve ever, had even craved his touch, was Orion Pax. For a fleeting moment, it had been like he'd possessed Orion once more, a pleasant memory flux only. Only to have his processor roaring at something that should have made him fall deeper into the moment. 'Why am I not allowed to enjoy myself? Is this punishment from Primus?!' Growling as Megatron pushed at the mech above him, claws scraping into the brightly colored paint-job he used to adore.

 

           "Get off of me! NOW! You're not him! You will never be him!" Rage filled his field as he grappled with the mech above him.

           "I hate you Optimus! I hate you for forgetting him! I hate you for forgetting what we were! I despise and loathe you for forcing me to recall Orion every time I encounter you!" Attempting to twist them over even as Optimus tried to grasp him to himself.

           "Talk to me! Stop uttering those stupid noises!" Optimus didn’t stop and seemed to increase the volume and frequency of the stupid purring noises. Somewhere in the back of his processor, he registered them as calming but his spark was too keyed up in a fit of temper to let the vocalizations affect him. If anything they keyed up his rage further.

 

           Optimus scrambled away from him quickly as his rage failed to dissipate. The sound of the spike pulling from his valve echoed in the room, the pop sound lewd and far too loud to his audials. The needy way his valve clenched down made him all the angrier. 'I was a fool, permitting myself think for even a moment.' Gritting his fangs even as Optimus tried to press close to him once more. An animalistic growl surged out of Megatron and he swiped at the form in front of him.

 

           Rising up from the floor, Optimus cowering from him in a way the truck former wouldn't usually if he was coherent in the processor. His spike still out and glistening in the meager lighting of the room invitingly. The scent of the room and the way his spark positively spun was enough to help form his decision. Letting his claws grasp down towards the prime, forcing him to lean back, spike displayed obscenely between his thighs. 'If I am to get rid of this charge I'll merely obtain what my frame needs and be done with it.'

 

           Megatron grabbed Optimus’s pedes, hauling him close, not caring that Optimus's hip plating scraped against the floor. He intended to do worse damage than that anyways. Optimus was nevertheless making that chirring noise at him almost incessantly. 'Trying to calm me or some such slag.' Grabbing a berth cover he shoved the corner into his intake and growled when the other went to withdraw it. Optimus got the point and left the cloth between his dentae, helm cocked to the side questioningly.

 

           “Gagged... I like you better this way.” His EM field calmed dramatically for the visual, a fanged grin gracing his faceplates. Relishing control even as he derived pleasure in taking it. “Now if I could possess you bound and gagged and not acting like your processor is half melted it would be even better.”

 

           Optimus began to relax as Megatron stopped radiating pure rage, allowing himself to be moved about as bright blue optics stared up at the silver mech. Megatron was feeling considerably better with the absolute control he seemed to be able to get from the prime. The spike between Optimus’s legs was actually looking more inviting now and Megatron positioned his frame above it. Holding Optimus's hips tight to the floor as he lowered himself down in one smooth motion.

 

           His calipers absolutely sang as his valve was filled and Megatron moaned wantonly. 'They definitely modified even this part of you… Made your spike bigger for sure.' He couldn't find it in himself to be angry for it since it had been a long time since he'd experienced any mech this deep. Not that Megatron allowed his valve to be used that often, the warlord preferred to use his spike. The few he'd interfaced with didn't possess the equipment to achieve the depth of his valve... but Optimus's spike fit snugly right up to his ceiling node. Slowly rocking his hips, merely enjoying the feeling of being in control and being filled. Optimus groaned beneath him as he rose up only to sink down again, servos still holding his thighs down so the prime couldn't move his hips. ‘Not yet Prime.’

 

           A few more rocking motions of his hips, grinding down and against Optimus’s array with greedy abandon. Megatron wanted to amp his charge up a bit before he’d tolerate the other to move at all. The warlord regarding him as nothing more than a frag toy for the moment. A deep satiated groan as he felt his lubricant slick the plating beneath him.

 

           That was exactly what Megatron wanted. Absolute perfection. His will came above all, he was filled. He was in control. Gradually the warlord released Optimus's hips, allowing the prime to move if desired, at least his hips were allowed. The moment they were released from his claws, the mech beneath him was snapping them upwards in a harsh, deep, positively satisfying show of strength and lust.

 

           "That’s it!" Already his ventilation systems were escalating and he placed his claws to Optimus's throat cables. Sustaining that thrill of domination in his system even as he allowed the movement against and into his valve. It was so deep and so rough... his valve pulsed, and Megatron could hear the squelch of his own lubricant coating Optimus's spike.

 

           Optimus was doing little more than rutting with his limited movement and it felt great inside his needy valve. Keeping the truck-former pinned like this, with just one servo was such a turn on for him and Megatron brought his other servo to his valve, playing with his anterior node. He still felt unsatisfied though, and he grew greedier, needier, more demanding.

 

           "More blast you!" The itch inside him seemed to be growing stronger despite all the attention and Megatron growled deeply as the warlord released his own spike. Optimus's servo was on his spike before the warlord could even sense the movement or even direct him to it. The strong servo moved quickly and with more nuances than he expected from his playthings current mental state. A digit swirled the tip to catch transfluid beading before stroking downwards, pumping with vigorous steady strokes over the delicate plating.

 

           Rising charge crackled across his frame, slamming his hips back down aggressively to join the hips snapping up to plunge a spike deep into his valve. The warlord saw static burst behind his optics; a minor spike overload ripped from him with a deep, guttural shout. Transfluid flooded past Optimus's servo; coating the windshields of the frame beneath his own.

 

           Megatron grinned, absolutely delighted with the show and mess of the ordained prime. Fangs glistened with his obvious enjoyment and he was practically purring. Charge still crackled across his plating even as Optimus's own overload released a flood of transfluid deep into his valve. The sound of Optimus’s moan went straight to his spark, the charge moving higher. His gestational tank didn't spiral open to absorb it, some protocol not met by the heat programming.

 

           His valve gripped relentlessly on the spike still buried inside of it, still not satisfied and rippling to encourage movement. His hips continued to undulate in a needy rhythm even as Optimus's own began to perform a relatively substandard performance. 'How dare he get off and forsake me like this!' Gripping the neck before him tighter, leaning close to him to adjust the angle slightly. "If you let your spike retreat I will reach inside of you and hack it off to manage your detached spike as a frag toy!"

 

           Optimus's optics widened, and though it was obvious he didn't get the exact wording the prime knew his mate remained unsatisfied. The scent in the room was refilling his transfluid at a record pace and his system responded accordingly, amping the prime’s charge back up.

 

           Gritting his dentae as Optimus tried to maneuver the angle and depth to satiate the deep itch burning inside of him. He found himself needing more, even wanting more of the prime now. 'How had anyone achieve anything while suffering from their heat??' Groaning out as Megatron realized he had ultimately recognized one decision done without his consent he could partially agree with. 'Everyone should have had dampeners installed.' His valve was feeling sore but still, he couldn't stop his hips from their movement, needing a valve release desperately.

 

\-------------------------------

 

           Optimus looked up at his mate, discerning what he needed... but it wasn't what the other wanted. How to explain? Words were overly complex to get out past the haze. The last one had upset the silver mech so he wasn't keen on attempting more at the moment. The mech above him was growing weaker though, deep ventilations only doing so much to cool his system and his self-repair still drawing most his energy. 'Mate won't like... but mate will like?' It was an unfortunate decision, but would be for the greater good of the carrier overall; no matter how it may distress him.

 

           A surge of power when his mate rose up from his spike withdrawing it swiftly as he grappled with the large silver mech. Reversing their positions and getting behind the needy future carrier and re-entering that plush valve with a deep thrust. He stilled but held his mate in place, servos and knee joints locking into place. A massive wave of rage swept through the EM field of the silver mech and he allowed more of his weight fall across his back. Rocking his hips lightly before biting at the neck cables available to him, moistening them with a deep rumble. That stilled his mate; Optimus was then able to rotate his hips properly; showing his obedience to his mate’s needs.

 

           'I'll be good sire. Take care.' Lots of deep rumbles came from the prime, being gentle even as he fragged the carrier of his offspring. 'You'll see carrier.' Optimus's processor was already imagining lots of strong sparklings coming from their copulation.

 

\------------------------------

 

           The switch in position enraged him, especially when the warlord felt too controlled and handled but his energy reserves were cascading with errors... 'I'll probably drop into stasis before the damn prime does at this rate...' Grumbling as he would have to construct an alternative plan. The weight on his back somehow soothed his spark? 'This damn coding is the worst designed monstrosity ever!' Trying to move away when his neck cables were bitten, a weakness for him and he moaned openly. Optimus swiveled his hips, the spike hitting different nodes and he couldn't help but relax into the position as his charge amped up again.

 

           "Fine... Just get on with it. IF it brings an end to this damned heat..." Pressing back against those shapely hips, his valve calipers clasping at the spike nestled and gripping it. It wasn't enough, though.

 

           "Just... Deeper damn you!" Pushing back against the other's hips, frame rocking hard with a moan as he received the tip of Optimus's spike nestled against his ceiling node. That's what he wanted. A deep satisfying frag.

 

           Optimus seemed to seize that as the signal and moved a bit off of his back, servos going to grab his hips. Digits dug between his plating there to touch his protoform. The Warlord found himself letting his armor move to allow those servos deeper against his protoform, relishing the contact in wanton abandon now.

 

           Megatron merely had a moment before Optimus was rutting against him, the thundering sound of clanging echoing in the room around them. He was gasping as his ceiling node was hit almost every time and he lowered his front to conserve energy from his arms trying to keep himself upright. It deepened the angle and he was moaning openly, scarcely moving his frame and letting Optimus just frag him relentlessly.

 

           It was deep, it was chaotic and it felt fantastic. Knowing Optimus was completely lost in a haze was satisfying in a way. Megatron squeezed his calipers around that spike, feeling the slide and grind against his array. Putting his helm against his arms, angling himself up and causing a satisfied noise from Optimus behind him. The Prime seemed to get more into it, his thrusts increasing in pressure and frequency from the new angle. 'Never seen him move that fast.' Reaching between his legs to expose his valve to his own claws, the fluids running down his thighs as he placed narrow circles with his claw. His anterior node was practically vibrating for his touch, tweaking it between claw tips.

 

           Optimus was practically jack-hammering against him now before he stilled, penetrating Megatron's frame. The Prime rolled deep and hard, spike pulsing and burning hot. His ceiling node was caressed magnificently, and Megatron felt his gestation tank spiral open and the tip of the spike entered. His internal calipers seemed to know and gripped Optimus tightly until he found release, flooding his tank with transfluid. The feeling of being filled ultimately gained him his own release with a shout. Moaning out as Optimus moved lightly, just enough to rock all of his transfluid directly into his gestation tank. His gestation tank wasn't anywhere close to filled but it did produce a generally sloshy feeling in his tank.

 

           Optimus sank against his back, spike locking into place as he offlined. Megatron groaned as he felt him lock into place. This was not pleasant in the slightest... but at least the itch had abated for now. He was still suffering the hear at the moment... but maybe it would be gone when he came out of recharge himself? He desperately needed some recharge for his systems to replenish themselves. Optimus was already out cold, making Megatron snort in amusement.

 

           "Out just as quickly as Orion was after interface. Frag you're a heavy afthole, though."Grumbling a bit but in an amused manner. Wondering if the weight on his back was what it had felt like for Orion when Megatron their positions were reverse. Though he'd never passed into recharge quite so quickly like this. Grasping the most convenient thing he could, tucking it under his front to relieve some pressure before succumbing to his own recharge.

 

\---------------------------------

 

           Optimus awoke with a snort, spike still semi-pressurized and surrounded by a warm clenching valve. Optics were slow to come online, an error message about excess charge explaining it. The haze had shifted subtly, and he recognized slightly more now but not much. Slowly rocking his hips into the pleasant heat, staying tight to the frame beneath him, hugging it to his own chassis with a deep pleased rumble. 'This feels so good...' Groaning as he discovered himself licking what felt like neck cables before snapping his hips forward with a deep moan.

 

           "Familiar... warm. Mate... Meg-" His processor spun, the name partially registering a lot of conflicting protocols; fight;passion;hate;desire;fear;disappointment and love; they were all there. Optics onlining and he perceived the frame beneath him. Silver and purple permeated his vision along with signs of the other waking beneath him. His hips kept rocking, disengaging a locking mechanism that had been engaged. His processor recognized Megatron more but still through a haze. Enemy... but mate. One-time friend... Enemy, mate... Carrier. No. Not scented of carrier yet. Still mate.' Optimus perceived his processor torn between disengaging and continuing to thrust into the warm, welcoming heat around his spike, finding his equipment pressurized fully in record time.

 

           'Why can't think well...?' Filtering as much through the last few hours, able to think a bit better. 'Ratchet'... 'Heat'... 'Megatron in strong heat.' That explained a few more things. Had Megatron agreed to this? Optimus remembered a lot of anger, and he worried about the ramifications of what he may have done. But he couldn't fully process it properly and his damn hips kept moving. 'Mate unsatisfied' was coming up as an alert on his HUD over and over again right now.

 

           Getting a processor ache from trying to figure everything out, permitting himself to fall back into the haze fully. It was deeply freeing and welcoming and Megatron was hard to force into anything so perhaps he was worrying overly much. Nuzzling the neck cables in front of him, servo reaching around to help wake his mate up. Recognizing this valve easily and rubbing the anterior node gently. Mate must be satisfied primarily first and foremost.'

 

\---------------------------------

 

           The warlord awoke slowly, allowing his frame to be handled a bit. It felt favorable, being caressed and somehow his spark didn't react adversely to the other mech. His valve was deliciously sore, but his spike required some attention. Megatron preferred spike play usually but still uttered a gravely whine as he rocked back into the mech at his back. His own sleep and heat haze clouding his processor far more thoroughly. The frame behind him nuzzled in such a familiar way that Megatron couldn't manage to worry about who it was, there were less than a servo-full of mechs he’d allow this close in recharge.

 

           Reaching between his legs, claws finding his spike pressurizing and clasping it to stroke, hips bucking into the sensation even half aware as he was. The frame behind his own reacted accordingly, altering their hips to meet simultaneously. It wasn't long before they both found a release, Megatron's transfluid splattering the floor while the spike inside of him flooded his valve. His gestation tank presented him a reading of 12% filled. 'Need more...' But the mech behind him seemed to fall back into recharge, spent as he curled next to Megatron’s still warm frame.

 

           Megatron turned to look at the mech resting next to him, the colors sparking more of his processor to react and online better as recognition came. Claws played with the transfluid coating his spike before touching his valve lips lightly, finding the mesh over sensitive but still deeply responsive. 'Frag...' Groaning as he delivered a command to withdraw his spike and placed his intimate panel back into place. The room stank of his heat and even he could perceive it fully now.

 

           'At least Optimus is in recharge finally... Wasn't there another cube of energon somewhere?' Looking around Megatron sighted it, getting up slowly, his frame aching strut-deep and objecting to the movement with a deep lamenting grating noise. Gathering the cube, he was swift to consume it fully. His systems pinged wonderfully at the fuel and he forged the rest of the way online, looking down at the mess of himself with a glare. The glower directed itself towards Optimus as well, curled up on the floor still. 'I hope you had fun; certainly look like you did.' A bemused snort of irritation blew some dust from his vents before the warlord silenced himself. He didn’t want Optimus to wake up and obstruct his escape again, no matter how much they seem to have both enjoyed themselves.

 

           Moving to get out of the room, displacing the furniture out of the way as quietly as possible. He didn't want to challenge the prime right now; he wanted to leave. The door was uncovered swiftly securing it behind himself. Ratchet was nowhere to be seen. 'Probably didn't want to overhear us clanging.' Suppressing a snort of amusement before he walked down the hallway. Helm swiveled to and fro, not finding much. Their base seemed to be rather empty so far. Megatron halted as he arrived at a deadend and punched the wall, assessing the mark that had been made. It had dented, but in his weakened state he doubted that would become a way out. Moreover, Megatron required his canon back.

 

           Heading back the other way, making sure he stepped quietly as he passed by the door he'd exited from. Looking down to see he was a mess of fluids, dents, and scratches. Even some earth dirt between his plating as a reminder of what he’d been up to the last breem or so. While Megatron wasn't generally considered vain, he was still prideful and this was absolutely intolerable for his standards. ‘Hopefully, this damn heat is over with now.’ The feeling of the transfluid sloshing in his gestation tank was mildly unpleasant and definitely not something Megatron wanted to think too much about.

 

           He started hearing voices, coming around the corner to see Ratchet and another mech, the femme. Her optics widened and Ratchet wasn't quick enough to seize her as she charged towards him. The anger on her faceplates morphed to something else entirely as the haze changed her objective. She had abandoned her weapons before she'd scarcely gotten her digits in place to fire. She practically took him by surprise with her speed in his weakened state.

 

           "I thought you said fragging Optimus would end this!?" Grabbing the femme as she launched herself at his faceplates, his strength still more than hers despite his weakened state. "Why is she still acting like this??"

 

           "I ordered her to leave! Now I have two of them fixated on you!" Ratchet was already scrambling at the console, pulling up schematics as he readied a syringe. "Just restrain her, I'm going to place her into stasis.”

 

           Megatron tried to retain a grasp on her but he was burnt out and over-taxed as the pits from the last day of various activity. She slipped his grasp almost easily. She practically crawled over his plating, gripping onto him with sharp digits in seams. His own charge amped up for the touches against his will.

 

           Arcee was quick to dodge Ratchet as he came close, screeching at him with a vocalizer that would put Starscream's to shame. She was already scratching at his interface panel. Her hatred of him kept her in a state of attack. Continuously Arcee dodged Ratchet's syringe even as she attempted to get under Megatron's plating to claim his valve per the coding’s protocol. The Motorcycle showed no signs of giving up.

 

           Megatron was getting irritated and frustrated. His short temper from being under fueled and still in recovery mode compelled the warlord to snap his panel open; merely so she would stop scratching at his plating. The femme was elated and released her own spike as she got herself placed against him, gripping his stomach plating to assume position. Arcee thrust into him, her frame clinging to his own and he could barely perceive her after Optimus's rougher treatment. Ratchet winced but recognized the opportunity for what it was, trying to get into a better place to secure her. She screeched again, snaring him with her servo with a decent gouge against his armor.

 

           "She's as bad as a cybercat..." Gritting his dentae as the femme sank into his valve, her attention mostly focused towards his anterior node. It was actually causing an upswing in his charge despite being unfond of this femme at all. Not quite able to resist the way his servo swept down to grasp her in place so she could basically rut against his anterior node. He absolutely loathed being so sensitive and eager right now, but Megatron couldn't deny he sort of enjoyed the attention as well. Rocking his hips against the femme slightly, allowing her really get going. Arcee was apparently a lively fragger and recognized what she was doing, but their frames weren’t easily compatible for this interaction.

 

           Arcee trilled excitedly, almost sounding sweet in her process-addled state, rolling her hips more against the bigger mech. ‘Large mate. Hearty mate. Monster. Hate. Take.Yes. Punish.’ Claws slid against his armor, piercing but not very deep, his plating too tough for her diminutive digits. Nevertheless, she rocked excitedly against him, amping up his charge decently now that his spike was released. Her servos moved to his spike, grasping it as Megatron settled on his aft heavily. Tired and starting to not mind what she did since the heat itch was back in full force.

 

           The femme pushed at his hips and they widened for her, letting her access more of his frame. Her field pulsed with rage and desire in corresponding measures and Megatron found he somehow enjoyed the tangy taste of hatred. The heat was apparently harassing his processor that he started to enjoy all this attention but the warlord still didn’t appreciate the way his frame felt… out of control. But allowing this was supposed to help relieve him of the effects of his heat.

 

           “Give her a moment Ratchet… Her frame types don’t last but so long…” Groaning as she continued pounding against him, still concentrating on his anterior node. ‘Must realize she can’t get but so deep.’ Still enjoying the motion and the feel of her claws stroking his spike. Megatron was so sensitized he was getting near overload himself, rocking against the eager autobot.

 

           Arcee suddenly revved her engine, leaning close to bite the spike in front of her as her frame vibrated against Megatron’s. The Position solely possible due to their frame differences. Megatron shouted with pain but his valve clenched down and she found her release, transfluid barely reaching the first ring of his calipers and making a mess. Licking his spike as she rocked a moment more, Megatron finding himself far unduly sensitive now. He had a small overload, coating the femme’s faceplates with his own transfluid.

 

           Ratchet managed to get close this time and injected her swiftly when she stalled finally, letting her fall limp in Megatron's servo, coated in transfluid. At least he hadn't gotten any of her transfluid in his gestational tank. There was only so much Megatron could deal with mentally right now. Taking a look at her before he allowed her to drop to the floor with a clang. Rising up with a screech of plating before he stepped over her inert frame. Ratchet glared at him for it before his own optics focused intently on the bared valve and spike in front of him, transfluid dripping down where he stood.

 

           "Ratchet?" Snapping his valve panel closed even though it stung slightly, the plush, puffy outer lips getting lightly scraped by the panel closing. "Ratchet." Snapping his designation in irritation, bringing the medic back into his processor.

 

           "Frag. Thank you for putting *THAT* away. Your heat apparently affects even medics a bit... Dangerous. I've got some energon ready for you... and can send you somewhere out of here." His speech suffered for the haze but it cleared rapidly. Still, if that valve was left bared with the scent in the air around them even Ratchet would succumb. That meant the Decepticon medic would be much more affected...

 

           Shaking his helm as he leaned down and moved Arcee to a proper medical berth. "I hope you endure one hell of a helm ache… You’re going to be pissed when you wake up.” Speaking softly to her before turning back to the warlord with a glare. He absolutely shouldn’t have allowed that but there was little he could have done.

 

           "I can't do much for you here beyond run a quick diagnostic, but it will merely identify some minor aspects of your heat." Holding up a cord to patch into Megatron, stepping close with an obvious reluctance to be near him. Cycling his ventilations more thoroughly to rid himself of any of the heat scent. Megatron gritted his dentae but held his wrist out.

 

           "Fine. The sooner the better. I'd rather Optimus stay recharging so I can make my escape as quickly as possible without him harassing my frame any more than I've already allowed." Megatron adjusted his plating, loathing how the heat itch seemed more intense each time it came back.

 

           "As if you didn't enjoy debasing Optimus." Ratchet groused as the medic plugged into him rather roughly and began to get schematics directly from Megatron. It was easier when the patient was online as he could see exactly how certain processes were linking up after all so it should be done fairly quickly.

 

           Megatron could sense the downloaded files easily enough, saw Ratchet's request to drop his firewalls and acquiesced. He glanced around for his canon, glimpsing it. 'There.' It must be near where they came in as it didn't seem to have been moved from the way it was merely resting there. Then again, it was excessively massive for most mechs to even attempt to move.

 

           "There, all done." Jerking the cord free quickly, a bit rougher than necessary before he turned back to the console. Patching the information in for easier looking over and pulling it up for Megatron to see properly. He was pointing directly at a particular alert on the screen almost instantly, noting the critical issue.

 

           "There's the problem. Your heat won't even begin dissipating until your tank registers as full. At the moment you're only at 10%... and dropping. Your tank is overly large, just like the rest of you." Grumbling as he typed in a few things, bringing up exactly how much Optimus had given. He realized it was all Optimus, none of Arcee’s had entered his tank according to the scans. Presumably meant his gestational tank was too deep for most spikes to reach properly. That would be Megatron’s problem, though, and Ratchet wasn't intent on aiding him any more than they already had… especially when he could experience his own reaction to the heat gearing up, slowly and easily ignored- for now.

 

           "Well, that's all I can do for you. You'll have to figure out the rest on your own. Your heat scarcely indicates any signs of dispelling, to be honest, so I don't know what you're gonna do. Then again, I don't know if I care."

 

           "I always appreciated your honesty medic. Give me some spare energon and coolant and I'll happily remove myself without deactivating you. I may even be willing to replace the energon you provide me." It would be a decent thing to do; he did still consider himself a mech with honor even if most saw him as a monster.

 

           Ratchet pointed to the side, already having predicted his response. They did have a history after all. Not that the medic liked admitting it. Long ago… eons...

 

           Megatron gathered up the supplies. His alert system pinged back with a 9% and Megatron gritted his dentae. Why was his frame absorbing it so fast? He supposed transfluid could be used as an energy source in dire times for a carrier so it seemed reasonable enough that it was getting absorbed. That was going to cause things to be far more difficult than he wanted to think about.

 

           The coolant he immediately drank down half along with at least half the energon before his tank registered being full. The sound of a portal opening clearly stated how little the medic desired his presence He subspaced the rest of the supplies, his weapon gathered as well before heading for the portal.

 

           The sound of heavy pedesteps gave him pause and he barely sidestepped the Prime. The Prime’s momentum captured him and transported them both through the portal with his medics shout drowned as it closed behind them. Megatron jumped to his pedes, seeing the same white stretch from before he’d been “rescued.” He could already detect the sounds of his armada nearby.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay to this chapter everyone! Still trucking along with this fiction! I love every comment and kudos <3

**Author's Note:**

> My very first fic, betaed by PrisonMechanic!  
> Sorry for the lack of porn this very first chapter of set up, plot kept shoving it's way in!


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